


Them Buzzards

by eggshellseas



Category: Fright Night (2011)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Jerry is a creep, M/M, Mild Daddy Kink, Minor Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Vampire Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:27:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggshellseas/pseuds/eggshellseas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charley is broken and Jerry’s maybe in denial about a few things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Them Buzzards

Jerry met a vampire once –barely a hundred years old—who handpicked his tribe with the utmost care. Once he’d singled someone out, he would stalk them for up to a year, carefully considering how they’d take to immortality, how they’d fit in with the rest of the group, and then he’d take the time to _get to know them_ before turning them.

This meeting had come about after Jerry had infringed on his territory, and Jerry had quickly settled the dispute by killing him and all of his fledglings. He probably would have killed the guy regardless for how pretentious he was.

Jerry’s long since learned that there’s no way to really predict what kind of vampire someone will make, and even then, if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. Jerry is pragmatic about these things. This little group he’s collected might not have long term potential, but it’s certainly been fun so far.

At the moment he’s got Charley and Amy each perched on one of his knees and he’s kissing them both in turn. They’re clever enough to realize it’s a competition without Jerry having to say anything, and he just luxuriates in the escalating efforts to outdo each other in keeping his attention. Amy has a finesse that Charley lacks, a practiced reservation that’s perfectly designed to whet Jerry’s appetite for more, but Charley’s unbridled enthusiasm certainly has its own appeal.

Peter, meanwhile, is off reading in the armchair he’d dragged into his claimed corner of the basement. Every once in a while –and he clearly thinks he’s being discreet—he looks over with resentment smoldering in his eyes. It adds a special something to the whole scene, definitely wouldn’t be quite as fun without the added kick of rankling Peter. Though Charley and Amy are undoubtedly his favorites, they’re just _too_ good sometimes, and Jerry needs some edge with his entertainment.

The only others already awake are Mark and Adam, who are tussling in the middle of the basement. Adam has been sullen almost the entire time since Jerry took him. He’d been briefly elated when Ed joined the family, but he’s even worse now that he’s gone. He hasn’t exchanged a single word with Charley, though Charley doesn’t seem to take any notice.

Charley doesn’t pay much attention to any of the other family members at all really, doesn’t even seem to want to acknowledge that Amy is barely a foot away from him. While Jerry has his mouth against hers, Charley snags his hands in Jerry’s shirt and squirms impatiently for his turn. It’s the kind of thing Jerry should discipline, but instead he wraps an arm around Charley’s waist and rubs the palm of his hand over Charley’s crotch. Charley hitches closer, tucking his face into the crook of Jerry’s neck, so grateful and aroused from just that. He’s keening quietly for more, but Jerry ignores him except for squeezing gently at the stiffening in his jeans and lets Amy coax his tongue deeper into her mouth.

He’s considering maybe ordering the pair of them to their knees and letting them fight over his dick (it would just be a feint on his part, actually; Charley would win by default because he’d be the only one willing to play), but he’s distracted by the crash of Mark slamming into the back wall. It’s clear that Mark, though he is by no means kind, is still only roughhousing for fun, but Adam’s true face is coming out and he’s snarling with rage.

Jerry pulls away to call out for them to play nice. Amy pouts at the loss and bats her eyelashes coquettishly. Jerry smirks and touches a fingertip to her lips.

He’s about to kiss her again, but Charley nuzzles at his jaw and whispers, “Please, _please_.” He’s always greedy like this. While Amy sighs happily watching, and would be just as content kissing Charley, Charley is constantly starving for Jerry’s attention, unable to focus his attention on anything else for any length of time. Amy had wanted to be the one to turn Charley. She’d begged and pleaded and then raged, but Jerry had pulled rank, and the prize has been more than worth it.

There really seems to be no limit to how strung out Charley gets on him, and it can be just as amusing to keep Charley dangling as it is to take him up on his unlimited offer of availability (which Jerry also likes to do –and _frequently_ ), so he doesn’t give in to his boy quite yet, just licks once at his open mouth and then pushes both him and Amy off so he can stop Mark, who has managed to turn things around, from ripping angry gashes into Adam’s chest.

Mark snaps his teeth at Adam warningly, but doesn’t resist Jerry dragging him off and shoving him away. “He started it,” Mark says sullenly. Jerry acknowledges this by ruffling Mark’s hair and Mark smirks at Adam in triumph. Jerry gives Adam a hand up, but then cuffs the back of his head roughly and sends him to the laundry room for time out.

Mark is someone who might not have seemed like an obvious choice for immortality, but Jerry likes him. He’s a good minion—cruel and simple. He’s handsome, too, though the sexual aspects of Jerry’s relationships with his children vary wildly. Mark would certainly submit if pressed, but he doesn’t share the same interest as some of the others, which is fine; Jerry’s certainly not hard up and Mark still serves a purpose. And he’s blessedly uncomplicated, not just because of who he was as a human, but because he’d been so caught off guard by his turning, so unprepared that the gift could really take over.

Amy and Peter and Charley, though, they’d known, _and_ been completely unwilling, mentally resisting the change to the last second. It’s not something Jerry has dealt with all that much, but it seems to make things completely unpredictable. If they fight enough some of their personality makes it through, but warped, maybe, in a way.

Amy’s taken to it the best, but she’s certainly got a mind of her own. Jerry can tell that she listens to him because she knows there’s a lot he can teach her and that suits her for now. He’d just recently started taking the kids out one at a time to teach them to hunt, and Amy immediately became his favorite partner. She loves to play games, to savor every moment and Jerry respects that. He’s sure there was something in her that wanted this, had to have been with how much she delights in the kill.

The passion between them is for the hunt and the consummation is the kill. They tease and flirt, but Amy doesn’t want to give him more—she has bigger plans, wants to be his equal. Jerry respects that, too. She’s going to be something great, a legacy he can be proud of.

Peter, in contrast, is his problem child, his resentment towards Jerry still festering. He won’t stand to be tied to Jerry for long, and Jerry knows the point will come when Peter will either directly challenge him or just leave. He doesn’t begrudge him this. He could’ve forged a stronger bond if he’d been thinking about it, but Jerry’s really not that into advance planning and he’d let the others turn Peter.

It leaves Peter lacking a certain grounding, and his moods swing wildly. Jerry and Peter have their moments, though, when Peter feels like being good and he’ll sit and talk to Jerry for hours, listening captivated to stories of all the centuries Jerry has seen, still keenly interested in vampire history.

When Peter does not feel like being good he will sulk or pick fights or, every once in a while, try to sow the seeds of mutiny and then Jerry will have to remind him of his place. That’s always fun, especially because Peter feels the pull of attraction that Mark doesn’t, but is in complete denial about it, so he acts up and misbehaves until he gets Daddy’s attention and then pretends to hate every second of it when he finally gets exactly what he’s been pushing for.

It feels very natural that they ended up like this— that Peter ended up here with him. Peter had asked him once why Jerry had let him live back when he was a child; it was because he’d been full, because he’d appreciated that little Peter hadn’t done anything stupid—just hid, teary and shaking in the closet. He just hadn’t _felt_ like it, honestly, and he might never have thought about Peter again if Charley hadn’t dragged him into things, so really he only has Charley to blame for his fate. He doesn’t, curiously enough, seem to blame Charley, though.

Jerry remembers the night he’d brought Charley down to the basement, dead in his arms and not quite ready to reawaken. Amy had been delighted to see him, but Peter had looked thunderous—not, as Jerry had first assumed, with lingering anger at Charley recruiting him for a suicide mission, but—what exactly he still isn’t sure, only that it is dark and jealous and Jerry loves it.

Charley, now Charley’s an interesting case: he’d kept Charley alive far longer than anyone else, drinking just a small amount from him every day, keeping him locked up until his entire world had narrowed to Jerry. Little by little the fight had gone out of him, but to Jerry’s surprise that wasn’t hitting bottom--just a turning point. After that, Charley had started getting so desperate for any interaction, any kind of physical contact that he’d do anything to prolong Jerry’s visits. After Jerry had had his meal Charley would pull him towards the small twin bed Jerry had provided for him, would kiss him without shuddering and ask Jerry to tell him what he did outside of Charley’s room, about his hunts, who he’d killed—anything, just not to leave him alone please. Towards the end he would crawl right into Jerry’s lap and offer up his throat, a thoroughly charming little lamb just ripe for slaughter.

It had been a game, payback for being such a nuisance, and it was just an interesting bonus more than it had been any kind of specific goal that that sort of Stockholm syndrome had carried over, but Jerry’s quite pleased with the results.

He could continue to take out all the anger at what the human Charley had tried to do to him if he wanted– over and over he could punish him, breaking him and letting him heal and then starting over, but Charley is something different now. Charley is his, carries part of Jerry inside of him. More than that, though, Jerry knows it just wouldn’t get him the reaction he wanted. Charley now would take anything Jerry had to give (and he’s beautiful when he’s in pain, it’s not that), but he won’t fight Jerry on anything and it takes the fun and the pleasure out of it.

Charley’s definitely not a weakling, though. Only a couple days ago he’d had to stop Charley from decapitating Mark after Mark had called him a fag. That had been fun; he’d gotten to see some fire in Charley again and then he’d had a reason to punish him. Jerry had chained him up and used an eyedropper to scald him all over with holy water, even taken one of his eyes and gotten hard listening to Charley howl (he’d dealt with Mark as well, but far more perfunctorily).

After, though, he’d let Charley have his fill of his blood to help him heal, cradled him close and guided Charley’s mouth to his chest and let him suckle there (and that had felt a little dirty even for Jerry, but Charley just seems to bring it out in him).

Everything about Charley is like having a shiny new toy to play with. Jerry had gotten whiffs of Charley being drawn to him as a human, that teenage confusion of wanting and wanting to be like someone. Poor Charley had been so repressed, so nervous, and all that repression is just bubbling over constantly now and focused completely on him. Jerry can tell how that just burns Amy, and while he’s not sadistic about gloating, it’s still his victory to savor.

There’s some time to kill before hunting, so Jerry looks over at Charley. He’s gone to sit perched on the arm of Peter’s chair, but even now there’s clearly nothing on Charley’s mind but Jerry. He’s obedient enough to wait for a signal, but, oh, he’s so hyper-focused on Jerry’s movements and immediately pricks up at the attention and meets Jerry’s gaze with wide, pathetic eyes. Then all it takes is a slight jerk of his head and Charley’s immediately on him, grabby hands and pressing as close as possible.

“Needy little thing,” Jerry murmurs, still in wonder about it.

“Yes,” Charley agrees, a plea in and of itself.

Jerry chuckles and slaps Charley’s ass and tells him to go upstairs, and Charley eagerly obeys. He only fucked Charley in front of the others once, and it not been the triumph Jerry was hoping for. Charley’s just so _desperate_ for it, so gratified when he gets it that it makes Jerry feel soft and slightly sick even as it fills him with an overwhelming want.

When Charley’s disappeared, Jerry slowly swaggers across the basement, taking his time in following. He deliberately catches Peter’s eye and smirks, “You can watch if you want.”

Peter growls and flies at him. Jerry laughs uproariously and blocks the clumsy attack. He has Peter on the ground quickly and presses a boot between his shoulder blades until Peter goes limp in surrender. Jerry lets him go and Peter rolls over and glares at him balefully, but doesn’t make any further move so Jerry just shrugs and says, “Your loss.”

Upstairs he finds Charley already naked, splayed out on the sofa they’d taken from one of the abandoned neighborhood houses. He smiles sweet and guileless as Jerry approaches, hard from just the anticipation. Jerry returns the smile, though he’s sure his own grin is safely on the sardonic side. He squeezes a knee between Charley’s hip and the back of the couch with his other foot planted on the floor and leans over him. Charley cranes up for a kiss, but Jerry pulls back to avoid it. Charley frowns and tugs at Jerry’s shirt. “Off?” he entreats.

“Don’t think so,” Jerry murmurs, bending to nuzzle Charley’s throat. “Not worth it for just a quick, convenient fuck, right?” Charley whimpers at that, cock twitching against his belly (Jerry’s done such a good job with him), and he reaches down to pull impatiently at Jerry’s belt, quickly getting his jeans open. “Such a slut for me,” Jerry praises, skating his fingers up Charley’s side. It gets him a tiny, bashful smile and Jerry chuckles and does kiss him then, messy and deep while Charley strokes him.

He pulls back and rubs his thumb over Charley’s bottom lip. “Better get my dick ready if you don’t want it dry,” he says.

“I’d—”

Jerry covers Charley’s mouth with his hand before he can finish, “ _let you_ ,” and indicates with his head for Charley to go ahead. Charley twists beneath him and grabs the lube from between the cushions (Jerry doesn’t think he knows—hopes he doesn’t know—but it’s only for him. Well, Charley and the occasional jerk off session when Jerry doesn’t feel like anyone’s company). Charley slicks him up quickly but thoroughly, then settles back and prompts, “Okay,” with a smug little grin.

Charley, when he was still human, was not exactly a willing participant at the start, but Jerry had always made sure he enjoyed himself in the end—and in a variety of ways, too. He doesn’t know if that’s why Charley’s so wanton now, or if it was always there waiting to be let out—it doesn’t really matter; Charley was made for him or remade for him, either way this is Jerry’s.

“Okay,” Jerry rumbles back. He pulls Charley’s legs up and around his hips, takes a second to position and angle himself, and then pushes in. Charley sighs like it’s a relief, like he aches every second Jerry’s not inside of him. Jerry wants to do something like kiss him again, but the moment passes quickly and then Charley’s huffing and pushing back against him, trying to urge him to move.

Jerry takes it slow with him. There’s no reason to rush and it’s so nice to see Charley fall apart. As Jerry presses in, grinding as deep as he can get, Charley runs his hands up beneath Jerry’s shirt and rakes desperate scratches down his back. He’s too well-behaved to bite without permission, but he’s mouthing at Jerry’s neck, nuzzling there in a silent beseech. Jerry is enjoying the soft tickle of it, but he isn’t going to allow it—it doesn’t do to over-indulge him after all.

Every so often a puppyish whimper slips out, but Charley is mostly quiet whenever they do this—except that he _breathes_ like he needs the oxygen, like he’s mortal again. He looks so rumpled and vulnerable underneath Jerry, so very human. Jerry pauses at that thought and Charley groans, displeased. Jerry just tugs at Charley’s curls until Charley looks at him. “Remember our first time?” he asks in a low tone. A thrill zings up his spine at the memory of the panicked struggling, the way Charley’s eyes had burned with hatred, how he’d been so blood-hot inside and out.

“Why?” Charley grumbles.

Jerry’s mouth quirks. “Because it was fun.”

“But _now_ ,” Charley protests, wriggling a little. It’s easy enough for Jerry to hold him still, but there’s nothing he can do about the way Charley’s ass clenches around his cock. To maintain the upper hand, Jerry sends them both to the floor in a blur of movement and Charley yelps in surprise as his head bounces off the floorboards.

They’re pressed even closer now, Jerry still bottomed out inside of him. “Fight me,” Jerry murmurs with his mouth right at Charley’s ear.

“Why?” Charley says again, starting to sound distressed.

Jerry squeezes Charley’s face with one large hand and kisses him harshly, but Charley doesn’t stiffen or flinch, just blinks, confused, when Jerry pulls away. “Because I want you to,” Jerry snaps a little impatiently.

Charley, always wanting to please, pushes tentatively at Jerry’s chest. “More,” Jerry says. Charley pushes a little harder. Jerry sighs in frustration and scoops his wrists up and pins them above his head, then snaps his hips in a fierce, jarring thrust. Charley’s mouth falls open and he arches into it. He’s straining against Jerry’s hold, which is nice (even if Jerry’s sure it’s not because he wants to escape so much as he just wants to get his hands back on him).

“Don’t,” Charley says dutifully, “Oh, _don’t_ ,” but it’s no use—there’s no helping the way the cradle of his body is so inviting, or how soft his thighs are wrapped around Jerry; there’s no hiding how much he loves this, his cock so hard and wet between them. Jerry digs his fingers into Charley’s wrists, not even thinking about the game anymore, but because Charley is just so cloying and Jerry is drowning in him. He’s leaving bruises that will take a while to fade because Charley’s so young and not so strong, and he knows Charley will wear them proudly later in front of the others.

The thought of that spikes his pleasure, and he lets go of Charley’s arms in favor of yanking him up for better leverage and fucking into him hard. “Come on,” he grunts. Charley uses his leg to twist up, rutting against Jerry’s stomach. “Jerry,” he whimpers when he comes, and it sounds like _thank you_ , like _daddy_ , like _I’m yours_ , and without even meaning to Jerry’s responding, “Mine, baby, only mine.” Charley turns his head to the side at that and drops his shoulder for Jerry to bite him, and who is Jerry is refuse?

He sinks his fangs in, and it’s not like the first time, or any of the times before Jerry turned him, but it’s still good. The taste of him, the _real_ him is still there, but—diluted is probably the best word for it. Jerry drinks maybe a little too deeply, chasing the traces of it, but that’s alright, just means he’ll have to make sure Charley eats properly later. He comes just like that, buried in Charley’s ass and his throat while Charley tips his head back farther and lets Jerry take what all he wants, so happy to be owned.

When he’s ridden his orgasm out Jerry rolls over on his back and lets Charley curl around him. Charley hugs him around the waist (fucking him never seems to do much of anything to diminish his neediness). He cups his hand over Charley’s ass and slips two fingers back inside him to feel where Charley’s wet with tacky lube and Jerry’s seed. Charley makes a soft noise and tucks his face into the crease of Jerry’s armpit, rocking slightly with the insistent twist of Jerry’s fingers.

One day, when Jerry’s ready to share, he likes to think about fucking his boy while he lets Peter have his mouth, or maybe making Charley fuck Mark and just watching, and Amy—they do make a pretty pair and he knows he can’t keep them apart for long (not if he doesn’t want Amy rebelling on him), but for now, at least, he wants it reinforced that pleasure only comes from him (and maybe, maybe he doesn’t want this to just be a phase, or at least not for it to end quite yet).

There’s stirring in the basement that means his children are awake and hungry. He’s got obligations to fulfill, so Jerry pulls his hand free and pushes at Charley’s shoulder in dismissal. Charley clings for a moment, but sulkily detaches when Jerry hisses at him.

The logistics of keeping his family fed are already getting a little difficult. Jerry knows they’re going to have to split up eventually; food will get scarce and their numbers will get too big. That’s how it always goes. Jerry will head somewhere new and start over. He’ll leave his children to strike out on their own, and he has no doubt Amy, and probably Peter too, will be interested in getting Charley to stay with them. And who knows, maybe Jerry will have already gotten tired of Charley by then, but, then again—Jerry’s had his share of sycophantic lackeys; he’s even had, however briefly, companions, but nothing like Charley—like—whatever Charley is.

After Charley’s pulled his clothes back on, Jerry catches his arm and kisses his forehead before he goes back downstairs. Yeah, Jerry’s going to keep him for now. He can always change his mind later.


End file.
